Qingping returned to her quarters, lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and rested in quiet stillness — breathing slow and even, exactly as if she’d fallen asleep.

To anyone observing, nothing about her suggested anything had happened.

Everything looked perfectly ordinary.

Several hours passed. Aside from one moment when she rose to take dinner delivered by the guard stationed outside her door, she held the same sleeping posture, motionless, the whole time.

Night settled in. After two days of unrestrained celebration, even the most energetic passengers were starting to feel it. Tonight’s evening dance wound down by ten, earlier than usual, with most couples heading off together to rest. A handful of especially energetic young people, not ready to sleep, gathered a few dozen strong with drinks and companions and headed up to the sea-watching tower at the top of the ship to look at the stars.

Stargazing of the romantic, contemplative kind was never really a group activity. But up at that height, with the wind running through a crowd of young people — that suited their actual interests and energy levels considerably better.

At the peak of the revelry, a group of uninvited guests slipped in. They hadn’t come to join the party. They’d come carrying the harvest of lives, and they took what they came for, one after another. Blood spilled like flowers opening. Life withered like leaves falling.

The killing had already begun somewhere, soundless, continuing without interruption.

Qingping, who had been lying with her eyes shut this entire time, opened them suddenly.

Sharp light flashed behind them.

Lighter than smoke, more nimble than a cat, she slipped out the door without a sound and struck the guard at the back of the neck in a single lightning motion, dragging the limp, catfish-like figure into the room. A minute later, a shadow dressed in guard’s uniform emerged. The shadow moved with its head slightly lowered, gliding forward at speed and in complete silence.

Every patrolling guard the shadow passed received the same greeting, delivered in a deep male voice: “Glory to the ancestors.”

Every guard who heard it responded immediately, straightening to attention: “Splendor endures to this day.”

The shadow swept past the section of the ship reserved for wealthy guests and continued along the corridor without pause, finally coming to a stop before a luxurious suite trimmed in gold osmanthus leaf. As the shadow reached for the door handle, there was a full second of hesitation — as if reconsidering the entire plan. A second later, a deep breath pushed the hesitation aside, and resolve returned. Before turning the handle, the shadow scanned the corridor carefully: the deep of night, quiet, no one in the VIP section, nothing suspicious lurking anywhere in the dark.

The shadow set its jaw.

Gripped the handle, twisted hard, and slipped inside in one fluid motion, closing the door without a sound behind it.

Clap. Clap.

Someone in the darkness applauded.

Bright light flooded the suite’s main room. After a moment to adjust, the shadow could make out three figures clearly. One was a gorilla-built brute, his eyes full of contempt. The second was Water Spider, the woman who’d spent the last two days successfully claiming Yue Yang for herself — her expression carried no contempt, only a kind of satisfied inevitability, as though she’d known all along Qingping would do exactly this. The third was Old Iron Anchor, dressed in his first mate’s uniform — though nothing about him now resembled a weathered dockhand. He carried himself like a king whose quiet authority needed no raised voice.

Old Iron Anchor’s expression, unlike the other two, held something closer to grief.

The shadow saw him and went still for a moment — fear, or perhaps something closer to relief.

She lifted the helmet off slowly, revealing her true face. It was Qingping — the same Qingping who had supposedly been confined to quarters in quiet reflection, now revealed to have overpowered her guard and slipped free.

“Why?” Old Iron Anchor asked, genuinely struggling to understand.

“I don’t know either… there’s no particular reason.” Qingping’s pale face produced a smile so bleak it would have made anyone watching feel a stab of pity. Her lips trembled. Her hands trembled. She looked like a woman about to come apart, swaying on her feet under the weight of something she couldn’t carry.

“Reason? I know exactly why. You’re a slut with a taste for pretty faces, willing to sell out your own people for them. Filthy whore — I always said you couldn’t be trusted, and look, I was right. The moment the blood ritual began, you played at quiet penitence, thinking you could fool us, then snuck off to free your lovers. Your plan was doomed from the start — I saw through it the moment it started. Acting like some chaste pearl when you’re nothing but a woman who’ll spread herself for anyone — only my idiot brother would ever believe that act.” The gorilla-built brute spat the insult with vicious satisfaction.

Qingping’s lips moved slightly, but she said nothing in her own defense.

Water Spider laughed, the sound dripping with amusement. “The power of love — supposedly the greatest force in the world. Fuping’s done beautifully — giving her own life for her lover, betraying her own people for him. How touching. I’m nearly moved to tears.”

Old Iron Anchor looked at Qingping for a long moment, and finally let out a heavy sigh.

“Of everyone in the younger generation, you were always the one I had the highest hopes for. More than Wind Ape, our strongest fighter among the young. More than Water Spider, who’s absorbed more power and contributed more to our people than anyone. It was always you. You’re not my blood daughter, but I have always thought of you as one. Everything you know — your knowledge, your survival skills, your combat technique — I taught you all of it myself. You were unmistakably the sharpest mind among the younger generation. The old guard and I always believed you’d be the one to carry the most ancestral blood into the next generation, perhaps even inherit the city master’s seat yourself one day. Even failing that, you’d certainly have become the city master’s wife, the mother of the next generation.”

“Your future had no ceiling, Fuping. Why choose this path? Do you understand what this means? It means betraying the very people who raised you, who invested in you.”

“It pains me deeply. While you were confined, supposedly reflecting, I genuinely hoped you’d come back to your senses.”

“And instead you’re standing here. You’ve disappointed me terribly.”

“Do you remember what I taught you? I told you — no race, no man of any kind, would ever accept one of us, the cursed people. Our people marry only within our own bloodline. No exceptions, ever. I told you specifically — never let real feeling enter into a mission. You handled everything well until now. How did you fall for a handful of pretty faces this easily? What do they actually have, besides good looks? No real strength. No experience. If it weren’t for whatever power stands behind them, mercenaries or bandits would have picked them off long ago. A bunch of spoiled second-generation nothings, and you fell for them? If you’d fallen for a powerhouse at Sky-rank tier five or above, I could at least understand the impulse. Fuping, my daughter — how did you become this foolish?”

Qingping said nothing. She neither argued nor agreed. She simply held her position in silence.

“Love makes fools of everyone, ha! Honestly, I rather liked that pretty boy myself,” Water Spider said, watching Qingping’s face carefully, deliberately twisting the knife. “Pity he’s set to become blood mush tonight. I would have enjoyed drawing out his energy a while longer — face aside, he was remarkably gifted in other departments too. Turning him into sacrifice feels almost wasteful.”

Qingping didn’t react at all.

The gorilla-built brute stepped forward with relish. “Kneel and die quietly, you filthy wretch.”

Old Iron Anchor made a low sound, and both the brute and Water Spider fell silent immediately, heads bowed, awaiting his order. He stared at Qingping’s pale face, killing intent flickering through his eyes, and raised one large hand as though to end her where she stood. The brute and Water Spider kept their heads down, faint satisfaction showing through despite themselves, waiting for the killing blow.

But Old Iron Anchor lowered his hand instead.

“Fuping. My most brilliant daughter. I’ll give you one final chance. Kill them yourself, with your own hands, and I will forgive this one transgression.”

“Marshal?” The brute and Water Spider startled, rushing to object.

“Quiet.” Old Iron Anchor’s anger silenced them both instantly, leaving them trembling like chicks caught in a storm with nowhere to hide.

Qingping suddenly dropped to her knees.

She bowed to him with full formal respect. For a moment, Old Iron Anchor’s expression lifted, believing she’d finally chosen to turn back. But her next words shattered that completely.

“Marshal. My teacher. The father I respect above all others. Please forgive me. I won’t do it.”

The fury that erupted from Old Iron Anchor nearly shattered the entire room.

He fought it down with visible effort. “Why? Tell me why. You’re intelligent enough to know I’ve already captured every one of them. They’re already dead. Why insist on this, when whether you raise a hand against them yourself or not, the outcome is the same?”

A bitter, pale smile crossed Qingping’s face.

She shook her head. “I knew this would happen before I even walked through that door. And I came anyway. Marshal, if you ask me for a reason, I don’t have one. I’ve known them only a few days, and that under the cover of an assignment. I kept telling myself not to let feeling interfere with duty. But I couldn’t manage it. I found myself wanting their kind of life — even their arguments felt more peaceful to me than anything we sing about here. They’re entirely harmless. Here, every life we live has a purpose, a target, and in service of that purpose we hurt people, myself included, and I never used to think that was wrong. But after knowing them, I started to find my own life unbearably tedious. I want to live the way they do — laugh when I want to laugh, cry when I want to cry, say what I mean, love whoever I choose, go wherever I want to go. I don’t want to be one of the defectors anymore. I’m tired of living this way. I want to live as an ordinary person does, and chase what I actually want, the way an ordinary person would.”

“You think they’d ever accept you?” Old Iron Anchor’s fury sharpened into a demand. “You think any of them feel anything for you?”

“None of them do. Not one of them likes me that way. They’ve all been kind to me, treated me as a friend, but not one of them feels anything beyond that — and that is exactly the painful, pathetic part of all this.” Qingping’s pale face was entirely without pretense now.

“Then there it is. They were never going to accept you, never going to accept our people. Why be this foolish?” Old Iron Anchor’s voice rose to a roar.

“I don’t have a reason either!” Qingping shook her head, the words coming out in pain. “I know rationally that they’re different from me, that we belong to different worlds, that I shouldn’t be drawn to them at all. But my reason has lost to my hope. I want to be near them, even knowing they won’t accept me, even knowing what I am makes it impossible. The wanting is there regardless.”

“Kill them, and you become one of us again,” Old Iron Anchor said, low and hard.

“No.” Qingping refused, shaking her head. “Even facing death, I won’t harm them. Marshal — my father — let me call you that one last time. Please forgive my willfulness, and from now on, consider that you never had a student or a daughter named Fuping. I — I genuinely wish I could become human, not fishfolk. I know it’s impossible. But I want to be as close to that as I can manage. I hope that in my next life, I’m born human, and can live among them.”

“This is beyond reason!” Old Iron Anchor’s fury was nearly tearing him apart from the inside. Several times his hand twitched toward ending her on the spot. He held it back, forcing a deep breath instead. “I’ll give you one absolutely final chance. Name the man you love, and I will use the cursed blood to make him one of us.”

“Marshal?” The brute and Water Spider stared, stunned that he was still willing to extend this much.

“…” Qingping was equally astonished. A flicker of hope rose in her — and then she shook her head. “I — I can’t do that. They can die, but I won’t have them corrupted into something like us. I don’t love any one of them specifically. No — there’s no one I love that way. Even so, kill them all. I would rather see them dead than see them turned into fishfolk.”

“Objection noted and irrelevant. Throw her in the cell. Find out which man she actually favors. Kill the rest.” Old Iron Anchor pressed a palm to the top of Qingping’s head, and a particular kind of energy unlocked the ancient curse buried in her body. She screamed in agony as dark purple ancient sigils spread rapidly across her skin.

“You have one hour. Bring the man you love back to me within that time. If you don’t return, the ancient curse will finish its work, and you’ll dissolve into a pool of blood.”

Old Iron Anchor swept his hand down hard.

Water Spider seized the now-limp and helpless Qingping the way a hawk snatches up a chick, laughed darkly, and vanished in a flicker of movement.

The gorilla-built brute spoke with evident anxiety: “Marshal — Fuping was promised to my brother. Why hand her to an outsider now? Even if that boy takes the cursed blood and becomes one of us, who’s to say he won’t carry hidden resentment? And her ancient curse has already activated — without male cursed-blood neutralizing it within the hour, she dissolves and dies. Even if that boy accepts the curse, he’d still be mid-transformation — there’s no way he could… and my brother isn’t even here. This would be such a waste.”

Old Iron Anchor fixed him with a stare. “Shuiyuan. Are you suggesting you take his place?”

The brute couldn’t meet his eyes directly, and answered, head bowed, halting: “Fuping is the most beautiful of the younger generation, and she’s been kept untouched specifically because she was meant to be the future city master’s wife. Letting her dissolve into blood for nothing would be such a loss. My brother isn’t here. Wouldn’t it be— Marshal, you know my loyalty has never wavered.”

“Shuiyuan, to be honest, sending Fuping out to retrieve a lover was a delaying tactic on my part. I have no intention of trusting or accepting a human, regardless of how this plays out. And reviving our forefather requires a substantial quantity of pure human blood — these tourists are exactly the resource we need, and we can’t afford to lose even one if we’re to meet the requirement. Fuping made an error in judgment, and I’d hoped she would find her way back from it. As for you — I know how you feel about her. You’re not the most outstanding of the younger generation, but your loyalty is genuine, and you’ve given everything for your people without reservation. I’m satisfied with your conduct. Here’s what I’ll allow: if your brother Wind Ape doesn’t arrive in time, I’ll consider giving you the task of recovering Fuping — this once, and only this once. She is destined to become the future city master’s wife and mother to the next generation. We’ve invested too much in her future to let that go to waste.” Old Iron Anchor offered the favor while simultaneously warning him not to get greedy with it.

“Thank you, Marshal! Shuiyuan will serve with absolute loyalty, even unto death!” The brute, overjoyed, dropped to his knees and bowed repeatedly, his gratitude pouring out without restraint.

A row of dim holding cells had been improvised in the lower deck. Mutant fishfolk moved in and out steadily, hauling out limp, unresisting human captives, slitting their throats, collecting the blood in quantity for later use.

Water Spider arrived at a small cell, ordered the steel cover opened, and dropped Qingping inside without ceremony, laughing darkly: “My beautiful, brilliant sister — go on and enjoy this last hour of life with your beloved little sweetheart.”

Qingping had no control over her own body as she fell. She landed hard against someone.

Looking up, she discovered the person she’d landed on was none other than the most irritating lecher of them all.

“Well, look at this — a beautiful woman thrown right into my arms in a prison cell. This sentence is starting to feel worthwhile.” Yue Yang settled the fallen Qingping carefully against the cold floor of the hold. The ever-considerate Tianra Prince had already laid down his own jacket beneath her, a gesture so thoughtful that Qingping nearly teared up — only to have that feeling thoroughly demolished one second later, because Yue Yang’s wandering hand had settled on her chest, with the studied expression of a man checking for a pulse.

“Good — heart’s still beating on this little gift that fell from the sky.”

“Of course it is, even a blind man could tell she’s alive!” Sea Fatty exploded. “And even if she were dead, you wouldn’t get to touch her chest!”

“If she were dead, would she really object to me touching it?” Yue Yang offered, on the theory that the deceased rarely complained about groping.

“But she’s not dead!” Sea Fatty was nearly apoplectic.

“She’s not dead, but she also doesn’t seem to be objecting — clearly she enjoys it.” Yue Yang’s particular brand of logic — silence equals consent — nearly drove Qingping to kick him through the ceiling. If you’re going to grope someone, at least own it, instead of pretending I asked for it.

“Well, if she’s not objecting, I suppose I should get in on this too…” Sea Fatty rolled up his sleeves, but Ye Kong’s foot found him before his hand did.

“You absolute pig — that’s Sister Qingping!” Ye Kong seemed only now to register who she was.

“It is Sister Qingping, but does it matter if I touch her a little? I’m just expressing concern.” Sea Fatty defended himself with admirable shamelessness.

“Concern for what, exactly?” Ye Kong told him precisely where to put his concern, leaving Sea Fatty deeply wronged. He pointed at Yue Yang and protested the unfairness of it all: “He touched her first and you said nothing! How is that fair?”

“Pigsy, my concern is genuine — look at her, covered in purple marks, she’s probably about to die. Touching her gives her one last moment of comfort before the end, since she’s clearly never had a man touch her before. There’s real risk involved, you understand — what if those marks are contagious? Actually, hold on, look how fast they’re spreading — they probably are contagious. We should all keep our distance from here on.” Yue Yang delivered this assessment with the conclusion that Qingping was roughly fifty percent dead already, with the remainder catching up fast.

“Any way to help her?” Snow-Hungry Wolf asked suddenly.

The concern from the ice-block man, of all people, moved Qingping more than she expected — moments ago she’d wanted to bite Yue Yang’s head off, and now this. Even the ice block cares? If the prince had shown concern, that would have made sense. But this one never showed concern for anyone.

The Tianra Prince examined the purple-black sigils spreading across Qingping’s skin closely and shook his head gently. “A powerful curse, erupting straight from the soul and bloodline. The breakout phase looks brief but devastating — like a dam giving way all at once. It’s specifically designed to destroy bodies of her people’s particular nature. There’s no countering it. Slowing it down isn’t even realistic.”

Yue Yang had produced a chicken leg from somewhere and was gnawing on it contentedly. “I already said she’s done for. Less than an hour and she dissolves into a puddle of blood, and from what I hear, it won’t be a pleasant way to go.”

Sea Fatty was scandalized. “She’s about to die and you’re eating a chicken leg?”

“What would you have me do, wail and sob?” Yue Yang looked genuinely confused by the suggestion. “I barely know her. If she dies, the most I’ll do is mention it to Liuye when I get back, and that soft-hearted girl will probably shed a few tears for her.” Sea Fatty’s outrage spiked again. “You barely know her and you groped her chest? I know her better than you and I wouldn’t dare touch it — you’ve gone too far!”

Yue Yang received this criticism with complete indifference, chewing away. “It’s not like touching costs anything. If you’re not worried about contagion, go ahead and touch it yourself.”

Sea Fatty yanked his hand back like he’d touched a snake. “I happen to be a man of principle. Taking advantage of someone in distress is not something this young master does. Your Highness — is touching actually contagious?”

“Probably,” the Tianra Prince said simply.

“Mother of— I’ve been committed to being a good boy since childhood!” Sea Fatty yelped and ducked behind Ye Kong for safety.

“Touching isn’t really a big deal — she’s about to die anyway, might as well, no harm in it… Sea Fatty, do you genuinely think any of us are walking out of this cell alive? We’re all about to die regardless, so we might as well enjoy ourselves a little. Yes, the marks look frightening, but honestly, the texture’s not bad at all.” Yue Yang, entirely undeterred, reached out and groped her chest a second time, in full view of everyone.

“You — are you done yet?” Qingping was nearly faint with fury.

“If you didn’t object, I figured you must like it. I thought you were enjoying it quietly, so I came back to keep you company. You don’t like it?” The sheer audacity of the statement nearly killed Qingping on the spot, and then he added, with perfect seriousness: “Honestly, you’re a bit underdeveloped up here. You should eat more papaya stewed in milk — supposedly helps.”

“Papaya stewed in milk helps with that? Got it, noting that down.” Sea Fatty produced a small notebook and recorded it with genuine diligence, evidently planning to pass this wisdom down through the generations.

“Pair it with a nightly massage, minimum twenty minutes,” Yue Yang continued, dispensing wisdom with tireless dedication.

“Thank you, teacher!” Sea Fatty’s enthusiasm would have earned him a gold star in kindergarten.

“Could everyone please stop and let me get a word in?” Qingping had never, in her entire life, seen a group act this absurdly in the face of someone’s imminent death. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.